


A Tumblr prompts collection

by chaoticdean



Series: A Tumblr prompts collection [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Drabble Collection, Established Relationship, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:22:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25389742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticdean/pseuds/chaoticdean
Summary: I got bored and asked my Tumblr followers to send me prompts for me to write quick little drabbles and ficlets about.Sometimes it's really short and sometimes I lose myself and write more than 1K over a 2-words-prompt... Cause this is how I roll, apparently.I intend on posting every new little drabble I write in here, so feel free to subscribe if you want to get notified, and tag along!You want me to write something specific?Send me a quick prompt, and I'll do my best!
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Series: A Tumblr prompts collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851427
Comments: 26
Kudos: 201





	1. Running home to you

**Author's Note:**

> Keep in mind that there's likely **no correlation** between every chapter! I just felt like posting a new work where I'll add a new chapter with each new prompted drabble/ficlet instead of doing a series and posting a new work each time. Plus, it felt easier for you guys to tag along and subscribe if you wanna be updated every time I post a little something!
> 
> Rating is currently Teen and Up Audience. If it changes, I'll post a warning in the notes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt — Dean asking Cas to be careful while following a lead on his own, and Cas messing with him
> 
> Title is from "Running Home to You" by Grant Gustin [[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f4a1vf7l-jI)]
> 
> **_You want me to write something specific?[Send me a quick prompt, and I'll do my best!](http://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/ask)_ **

Sometimes, Castiel chases his own leads and dives into cases on his own, and yeah, okay, Dean doesn’t particularly like it but he indulges him — because he knows better than getting on the angel’s bad side and he’d rather tear out his own heart than having to go through _32-shades-of-pissed-off-Castiel_ when he can just voice his concern while being pressed up against him postcoital. 

_“You sure you don’t need me?”_ He asks carefully, kissing his way across his jawline tenderly, _“I could come with”_

 _“Babe, I’ve got this. Besides, you’ve got things to take care of here. I’ll literally be back tomorrow, or the day after at worst”_ Cas answers, his voice gruff as Dean kisses that soft spot behind his ears that tends to make him whimper, _“Okay, that’s not fair. Stop using your demonic skills as a way to make me change my mind, Winchester”_

Dean chuckles at that, propping himself up on an elbow to watch his boyfriend more carefully. His hair is slightly damp from the shower he just had (right before Dean decided to drag him to bed) and sticking into 12 different directions as they usually do. 

Dean used to think Castiel’s hair was glorious, but that was even before realizing than Castiel’s post-hair sex is a _goddamn work of art._

 _“Is there any chance that I could say to you, uh… “be careful”?”_ Dean asks, watching as Castiel turns his head to stare at him, _“and then you could say, “safety first”?”_

Castiel grins, watching his partner with a cocky smile on his face, _“It’s worth a shot, I guess.”_

_“Okay. You be careful.”_

_“Safety first”_ , Castiel answers with that same playful smirk on his lips

 _“Liar”_ Dean answers, kissing his worries away over Castiel’s lips.

Yes, Dean doesn’t like it when Castiel leaves to chase a lead alone. But he really, truly love their nights-before bantering/cuddles, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **_[rebloggable on Tumblr](https://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/post/624016450099773440/for-the-quick-prompt-thingy-you-just-posted-dean) _ **


	2. Endless summer nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt — Falling asleep in the car.
> 
> Title is from "Endless Summer Nights" by Richard Marx [[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1NvsMKYgCsM)]
> 
> **_You want me to write something specific?[Send me a quick prompt, and I'll do my best!](http://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/ask)_**

Castiel used to think sleeping was a waste of time, but this was way before when he was still a Defender of Heaven, a warrior destined to lead armies through the hellfire and battlefields. 

This was before he fell for humanity, before he started feeling things, before he became a member of Team Free Will.

Before _Dean._

And truth be told, watching the hunter sprawled out in the backseat of the Impala, the dull light of the moon illuminating his features in the darkness of the night, Castiel is almost sure life can’t get better than this.

 _“Hey, Cas?”_ Dean asks, his voice already heavy like he’s minutes away from drifting off.

_“Yes, Dean?”_

_“D’you think —“_

Dean huffs, stopping himself in the middle of his sentence, his face turned the other way so that Castiel can’t see. The angel extends an arm over the seat, touching Dean’s shoulder gently, his finger resting on his bare skin where his shoulder meets his neck.

It’s new, fragile, this thing between them. It’s always been there, a tension sometimes so thick you’d have to cut it with a knife.

There have been a few kisses. A few moments where Dean reached out, taking Cas’s hand in his while they’re driving, or extending his arm to brush his fingers over the nape of Cas’s hair. And other moments where they shared a bed, tangled in each other’s space, Dean sleeping soundly and peacefully inside Castiel’s arms as if they were his armor. 

Nothing less, nothing more. Castiel doesn’t know where this lead and he doesn’t really care, as long as Dean stays by his side no matter what. 

_“What?”_

_“Come lay with me?”_

Castiel smiles as Dean turn his head to watch him, green eyes following as he hops in the backseat carefully. 

_“Off,”_ Dean says, hands on the lapels of Cas’s trench-coat, _“Take it off”_

 _“Alright, okay. God, when did you become this impatient?”_ He asks, throwing said trench-coat over the front seat, “ _This better?”_

Dean runs his hand over Castiel’s white shirt, going over his heart, _“this goes off too.”_

_“What, the jacket?”_

_“Yes, the jacket, dumbass. Come on, get it off”_ Dean gruffs, helping the angel out. 

When he’s finally free of all the extra clothes Dean doesn’t want on him, the hunter closes his arms around his waist and Castiel lays between Dean’s leg, chest heavy against him, head resting in the warmth of Dean’s neck, _where he smells like home._

Dean cards his finger through Castiel’s hair after a while, and the angel shivers at the sensation, a pleasant feeling washing over him. 

_“If I ask you what’s wrong, will you answer me?”_ Castiel asks a moment later, his voice low and steady.

He studies Dean’s face from up close, his glorious freckles visible over the moonlight. When Dean doesn’t answer, he gently kisses over the stubble of his jaw, his thumb brushing at the corner of Dean’s mouth, padding over his lower lip.

Dean finally turns to look at him, green honey eyes starring right at him in the obscurity of the night and the comfort of the Impala. There’s a shadow of a smile on his lips as he comes closer and kisses the angel softly like it’s just a normal thing to do.

Castiel doesn’t think it will ever get normal, as he quietly loses himself in the sensation, his lips parting to allow Dean’s tongue in. 

Every time they kiss it’s like a whole new galaxy opens up beneath Castiel’s eyelids, the stars watching over them as they slowly lose themselves in each other. 

_“Nothing’s wrong, babe,”_ Dean finally says after a while, a whisper against Castiel’s bruised lips, _“I just need you close”._

Sleeping might have been a waste of time more than a decade ago, but kissing Dean in the backseat of the Impala on a quiet summer night in Utah actually sounds like Heaven.

And Castiel has been there before, so he _knows_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**[rebloggable on Tumblr](https://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/post/624023831760224256/for-the-prompts-falling-asleep-in-the-car) ** _


	3. Rock your socks off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt — Destiel + socks (asked by the lovely [good-things-do-happen-Dean](http://good-things-do-happen-dean.tumblr.com) ❤️)
> 
> Title is from "Rock Your Socks" by Tenacious D [[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Nf_MD5gHXk)]
> 
> _**You want me to write something specific?[Send me a quick prompt, and I'll do my best!](http://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/ask)** _

It’s an old code between the two of them, one that dates back to Dean’s first date and countless of mishaps that lead to both Sam and Dean walking on each other’s while in bed with someone.

It’s Poughkeepsie for sex if you will. 

So when Sam wanders in the bunker, leaving his beloved library to tell Dean he’s going out for a while, hopefully catching a movie and get food on his way back, it’s safe to say that he’s pretty surprised at the sight of a black and red striped sock on Dean’s door-handle. 

His brother hasn’t used the damn ‘sock on the door’ for years, and Sam is pretty sure he has never ever used it in the bunker. 

Plus, he’s 100% sure Dean hasn’t gone out today.

So, does that mean…?

He’s halfway to the only logical conclusion when a deep-moan that can only be Dean’s travel through the door and Sam’s brain freezes.

_“Fuck, Cas — Cas, Cas, Cas… Just like that — Oh, **God.** ”_

If he could fly, Sam would probably be halfway across the globe right now. Instead, he just runs back to the war room, grabs the keys to his car, and leaves the bunker so fast one might think he’d got his skivvies in a bunch. 

It’s only an hour later that Dean texts him, asking him where the hell he is, that Sam finally grins at his phone while answering.

They’re gonna need a new code.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**[rebloggable on Tumblr](https://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/post/624028993624113152/hi-hi-prompt-for-you-destiel-and-socks) ** _


	4. A Thousand Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt — Destiel + tattoos
> 
> _Title is from "A Thousand Years" by Christina Perri [[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rtOvBOTyX00)]_
> 
> **__[You want me to write something specific? Send me a quick prompt, and I'll do my best!](http://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/ask) **

_“You sure about this?”_

_“Dean, for the 100th time, yes. Could you please stop babying me? I’m thousands of years old.”_

Dean rolls his eyes at that, because sure, he knows. But he can’t help the smile that ghosts on his lips watching Castiel frowning at him while they wait for the tattoo artist to come back with the stencil.

_“I’m just saying, there’s no going back after that, that’s all.”_

_“It’s not my first one. I know what to expect.”_

_“Right, babe, but you… this feels different.”_

_“Why, because I’m getting your initial in Enochian?”_

Dean’s heart misses a beat at that, because _yeah this is why_ , but he’d rather die than explaining this in the middle of a tattoo shop on a Thursday afternoon. 

_“No, dumbass, I’m just saying… I don’t want you to regret this when we fight over what to watch on Netflix tomorrow night, or who gets to take the flamethrower with him on a hunt 15 years from now, that’s all.”_

Castiel’s gaze softens at that as he rests his hand on Dean’s tight.

_“You’re an idiot.”_

_“Mhm, yeah, that’s been said.”_

_“No, I mean no matter what stupid stuff we fight over, I’m never going to regret this.”_

_“Why not? You’re not psychic, you can’t possibly know what’s going to happen 10 or 20 years from now.”_

_Maybe you’ll dump me when I’m too old and cranky for you and all that will be left of us will be these crappy tattoos of our initials in an ancient language no one knows left on our wrinkled skin._

_“Dean.”_

Castiel’s voice is low, clear. The one he uses whenever he wants Dean to understand something important, whether it’s about bumblebees being the most important thing in the universe or telling Jack about the constellations when they watch the stars at night on the bunker’s roof.

_It’s the one he uses when he tells Dean he loves him._

_“There’s nowhere in time, no place on this earth where I’ll ever regret anything about you and me. I’ve loved you for what feels like forever. I have no doubt I’ll love you a thousand more years.”_

Dean smiles. He’s been doing that a lot more recently. It feels good. It feels right.

_“Besides, you never had a doubt about getting **my** initial tattooed in **my** language on **your** clavicle, so… Why would you doubt me?”_

Dean kisses him then, and his lips taste like the cherry cola he’s had right before the appointment. 

_“I’m not doubting you. Never. I’m only ever doubting me. And I love you, too.”_

Castiel smiles against his lips as he kisses him one last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**[rebloggable on Tumblr](https://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/post/624478196404994048/just-fyi-youre-an-awesome-writer-and-i-really) ** _


	5. The distance we don't need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt — Destiel + shower
> 
> Titled after lyrics from "Favorite Place" by All Time Low ft. The Band CAMINO [[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-dr27fyqc0o)]
> 
> _**You want me to write something specific?[Send me a quick prompt, and I'll do my best!](http://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/ask)** _

Dean is propped up against the bed’s headboard absorbed in a book ( _Mythology: Timeless Tales of Gods and Heroes_ ) when Castiel enters the room and starts stripping from his (or really, Dean’s) white tee-shirt and his (again, Dean’s) jeans right away like he’s got a monster on his ass. Dean cocks an eyebrow at him, watching as both tee shirt and jeans fly to another side of the room and ten seconds later a very sweaty, very naked (very enjoyable) Castiel crawl into bed and start laying kisses on various attainable body parts (which means no exciting parts, since Dean is fully clothed).

 _“Okay”_ the hunter laughs as he tosses the book on the bedside table, Castiel launching an attack on his throat, _“why are you all sweaty and naked all over me, and what have you done to my boyfriend?”_

 _“I was in the garden”_ Castiel answers like it magically means a damn thing, kissing his way through Dean’s jawline _“and now I need a shower”_ he adds before he’s nibbling at his earlobe with all the ferocity that’s left inside the angel, _“and I figured maybe you’d wanna join me.”_

There are lips on his within seconds then, and Dean allows himself to sink in the moment for a few blessed minutes where it’s just him and his sweaty-naked-boyfriend slash angel-of-the-bloody-Lord slash gardener-extraordinaire kissing like there’s no one else on the planet.

 _“Did you get into it with a tomato plant back there, Angel?”_ Dean finally asks a few blessed moments later, wiping a trace of dirt on Castiel’s forehead.

 _“Well, no, but you wouldn’t believe what a pain in the ass it is to actually harvest the potatoes”_ Castiel answers with a sigh, _“the good news is, we can make our own French fries now! I think Jack is going to be excited.”_

Dean can’t help but smile at the sight of Castiel being this excited by potatoes, his lips mapping the contour of the angel’s cheekbone.

 _“We?”_ , he murmurs, moving his lips to Cas’s temple, _“I’m not letting you anywhere near a peeler knife since you almost took your own finger out.”_

Cas sounds offended but quickly whimpers as Dean makes his way to his ear, nuzzling along his jaw.

_“It’s not like it wouldn’t have grown back, Dean”_

_“Yeah, well”_ , Dean answers playfully, very satisfied with the light moan that comes out Castiel’s mouth once he mouths at his earlobe, _“just because you can make your own limbs grow back doesn’t mean you should, besides_ ”, he straights himself up again, face lined up with Cas’s and looking straight inside the angel’s baby blues, _“I don’t want you using what’s left of your grace for this kind of thing”,_ he kisses his lips gently then, _“so you’ll only be watching me making French fries for everyone, babe”._

Castiel frowns, pushing himself off Dean and standing up again.

_“Shower. Are you coming, or are you gonna stay here reading instead?”_

Dean smiles, sitting up as Castiel makes his way to the bathroom, naked in all his glory.

_“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”_

And French fries are indeed made that night, Castiel doesn’t lose any limbs as he watches his hunter and his son prep everything for dinner together, and Sam can’t look at either of them straight in the eyes after their earlier shower turned into one steamy make-out session that could be heard all the way from the library to the confines of the garage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**[rebloggable on Tumblr](https://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/post/624653384864137216/destiel-shower) ** _


	6. Till it shines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt — Destiel + growing old together
> 
> Title is from "Till it Shines" by Bob Seger [[x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Lb0Rj6pcK8)]
> 
> _**You want me to write something specific?[Send me a quick prompt, and I'll do my best!](http://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/ask)** _

The sun shining light through the curtain slots slowly pulls Dean from a very comfortable sleep, with a side of light grumbling ( _who the fuck decided it was a good idea to put blinds instead of blackout curtains in that goddamn room?!_ ). The hunter reaches for the other half of the bed, only meeting emptiness and cold sheets, which makes the grumbles turn into groans. He hops on his feet then, making his way down the stairs and to the kitchen, knowing very well he’ll find him here.

 _“Hi,”_ he says lightly, his voice still rough with sleep, dropping a soft kiss right there in the hollow of his neck, where it’s warm and inviting and smells just like _Cas, “Watcha doing? I woke up and you weren’t in bed with me.”_

_And I hated it, you know I hate waking up without you all tangled up around me like a goddamn koala, it makes me scared that maybe all of this is a dream and I’m finally waking up to an empty bed in a ghost house._

Both his arms have found their way around the former angel’s waist and are now tucked under his shirt — well, really, _Dean’s shirt_ , but the hunter stopped keeping track of what’s his and what’s his husbands, well over _a decade ago_ already — resting against his bare skin, and Dean tightens against Castiel’s back, even letting his eyes fall shut again as he instantly relaxes against him.

 _“Hey,”_ Cas respond with a smile, raising his head and turning just enough to get a look at his sleepy, grumpy husband, _“wanted to make breakfast before we head out. There’s a fresh pot of coffee on the counter, if you want.”_

_“You’re a fucking saint.”_

_“Well, technically…”_

_“Babe, I know, shut it,”_ Dean groans as he smiles, dropping another kiss behind Cas’ ear before he lets go of his warmth and makes his way to said fresh pot of coffee, _“Thank you.”_

He pours himself a cup — in that stupid one that Jack gifted him last Christmas, the one that says _“My son went to Canada and all I got was this stupid coffee mug”_ and that Dean loves so much — and watches as Castiel finishes making scrambled eggs, wearing only a pair of boxer briefs and that old faded black rock band shirt that suited Dean just fine but somehow fits tighter on Castiel’s broad shoulders and muscular body (which is _truly infuriating and slightly hot_ , by the way).

Ten years might have passed since they defeated Chuck, and sure they might have gotten older, hair might have turned grayer, but Cas is looking just as fine as he did 10 years ago (which means he looks like _a goddamn model_ ).

Not that Dean has any complaint whatsoever, but he’s self-conscious about himself enough to know he doesn’t look as good as he used to, flat tummy turned into small pudge and love handles be damned.

 _“How old are you again?”_ Dean asks over his cup, sipping his coffee as he watches his husband turn around and put the scrambled eggs in one single plate.

 _“Mhm, 3.92 billion years, give or take one or two millennia,”_ Cas answers absent-mindedly as he proceeds to wash the pan right away, _“but you know that already.”_

 _“Ya, I do,”_ Dean grins as Castiel dries his hand, looking at Dean curiously.

The former angel grabs the plate and sets it in front of Dean, _“eat.”_

 _“C’mere,”_ Dean motions for Cas to come and sit on his lap, and suddenly his husband his right against him, Ocean blues meet Forrest green, _“God, you look beautiful.”_

Castiel’s hand finds its way to Dean’s face, cupping his cheek as he smiles wide, and Dean’s find their way under Cas’ shirt again, resting on his back. The silver wedding ring on the former angel’s finger attracts the sun’s light as he lowers his face to kiss his husband.

Dean had thought, back then, that at some point the feeling going with kissing his angel would fade, that it would turn into something normal, some kind of routine, but it never did.

It still tastes like the sun on his face, like he’s riding some stupid rainbow and discovering a whole new galaxy altogether.

 _“Happy Anniversary, babe,”_ Cas murmurs against his lips once they part, and Dean kisses him again right here and there, just because _he_ _can_.

_“I love you.”_

_“I know,”_ the former angel smiles, _“I love you, too.”_

It’s not like it’s as taboo as it used to be for Dean. It took him a long time to be able to say it without feeling like he might explode, and he still remembers the first time it passed his lips to land on Castiel’s ecstatic face. But there’s still this thrill going down his spine every time his husband does, this deep feeling of possessiveness, of feeling like he finally _belongs_. **_With him._**

Castiel glides a finger over Dean’s scruff along his jaw, watching him closely with half a smile on his lips, _“you look just like you did back then.”_

_“Which is?”_

_“Magnificent.”_

His lips are on Dean’s jaw now, making their way to his temple, and Dean delights in the little shiver that goes through his body as Castiel’s lips move on his skin.

_“Now you’re pushing it.”_

_“Beautiful. Superb. Marvelous. Do I get to keep going?”_ Castiel says, his voice muffled as he goes down Dean’s neck, a silent moan rising from the hunter's throat.

_“Mhm, as much as I’d like to believe you, I know you’re lying.”_

_“I don’t lie.”_

Dean rolls his eyes then, because of fucking course Castiel _fucking_ Winchester who _“doesn’t get words wrong”_ , doesn’t lie, _except when he wants his husband to feel good_.

 _“All the extra weight on my body and grey hair on my head and face would like to kindly disagree,”_ he answers with a self-deprecating smile.

 _“Dean,”_ Castiel grabs him by the chin, locking-eyes with him, _“If you don’t stop bringing yourself down I’m seriously going to get mad.”_

 _“I like it when you get mad,”_ Dean answers, turning his smile into a mischievous one.

Castiel fits his lips against Dean’s once more and they share a truly filthy kiss, just because they can do that now in the middle of their kitchen, in the house they’ve bought for themselves all those years ago. When they part, Dean still has that dazed look on his face as he watches his husband rise from his lap and feels him press against his back Hal a second later, lips back on his neck.

_“You look beautiful to me. I don’t care if your hair turns grey, or if you gain weight, or if you need your 8 hours instead of 4, or if you fall asleep in front of Jeopardy every night. I don’t give a shit, Dean.”_

Dean smiles then, Castiel’s lips kissing inside his neck, because goddamit Castiel swearing has a way of going _straight to Dean’s dick._

 _“You’re my husband, and you look beautiful, and I love you,”_ he drops a soft kiss on his cheek then, both his hand roaming on Dean’s chest, and Dean can’t resist but holding on to those strong arms that still make his night feel safe after so long already, _“but if you don’t think you look good, maybe we should head for our bed right now and I’ll show you how beautiful you look to me.”_

_“That certainly sounds exciting.”_

_“It does, right?”_

_“Not sure Sam and Eileen will be on board if we arrive 3 hours late to Charlotte’s christening though,”_ Dean smiles, already feeling the arousal rise.

_“Bold of you to assume it’s going to take me this long to toss you into oblivion, but I also don’t give a shit.”_

_“Language.”_

_“Fuck you,”_ Cas giggles as Dean rises up.

They make it 20 minutes late, and neither Sam nor Eileen has the heart to call them out on it, because both of them are beaming like actual rays of sunshine, and _little Charlie can’t get enough of her uncles “Ca’n’Dee”._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**rebloggable on[Tumblr](https://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/post/625621902632861696/can-i-pls-pls-pls-get-a-sweet-fic-with-cas)** _


	7. If love is enough, could you let it show?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt (by my friend [keptinonzebridg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keptinonzebridg)) — I’d love to see something with sam overhearing Dean and Cas going at it, or at least being so DONE with them being completely unaware that they’re not alone in the bunker and he’s had enoughTM so he confronts them and it is: awkward for the three of them. (sam needs a break, man) 
> 
> This one-shot is titled after lyrics from the song "Miracle" by CHVRCHES [[x](https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwiD7cn2vrbrAhUx5uAKHQg7ACAQwqsBMAJ6BAgMEAQ&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D3TesdYxS2xE&usg=AOvVaw3q7jHK7FKTv5XDTZ7Vybhg)]
> 
> _**You want me to write something specific?[Send me a quick prompt, and I'll do my best!](http://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/ask)** _

If anyone had told Dean Winchester 10 years ago that he would be delighted at the simple thought of walking barefoot on the way to his kitchen, inside his own home, only wearing boxer-briefs and a dead guy’s robe, he would have laughed and called them maniacs.

Yet here he is, walking towards the bunker’s kitchen with enthusiasm at barely 8 am on a Sunday morning, and God, does it feel _fucking great._

Yeah, even 10-years-ago-Dean-fucking-Winchester would have a panic attack at the simple thought.

Dean finally enters the kitchen and finds his little brother sitting down at the table, seemingly reading on his iPad, a steaming cup of coffee and and a bowl filled with some healthy crappy cereals that he makes a point of adding to the supplies every time he’s in charge of grocery shopping ( _“not everyone makes a competition out of having the highest cholesterol level of the state by the time they hit 45, Dean”_ Sam had said throwing bitch face number 387 labeled _fuck-you-and-let-me-have-my-goddamn-muesli-you-animal_ at his brother) laid out in front of him.

Sam raises his eyes and watches as Dean makes his way to the counter, pouring himself a cup of coffee and grabbing some pancakes he made the day before to reheat.

 _“Hey,”_ he finally says once Dean sets his plate and coffee mug on the table and sits opposite him, _“you’re up early.”_

 _“Yeah, well,”_ Dean answers with a wide grin on his face, taking a sip of his coffee, “ _Cas was snoring and I figured I’d catch you before your run.”_

 _“Dude, I came back from my run like an hour ago already,”_ Sam responds with a witty smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

_“Jesus fucking Christ, Sammy, how are we even related?”_

They share an easy laugh and it almost makes Dean giddy on the inside, the thought that they can actually enjoy this now, without fearing monsters are going to barge in at any point crossing his mind.

Discovering the bunker was a turning point for them both, Dean quickly finding his way around the bunker after years of having nowhere to belong, finding simple joys in making actual food for his family (with real ingredients that didn’t come from a shady-looking diner or a vending machine, thank you very much), or setting up his Dean-cave in the basement. It took Sam more time to acclimate, but he finally got around to it, diving into the gigantic library and all the lore the bunker had at its disposal.

Now that Chuck was finally off the board, both of them were considering stepping away from the hunting life, at least for a little while, and enjoying what life would throw at them. For the first time in 4 decades, nothing seemed to be looming over them, no apocalypse on the horizon or big bad fights between celestial beings. Sam had Eileen and a possible future to look up to, and Dean…

Well, Dean had Castiel, and Castiel had Dean. And for once, things were actually looking up. Which, all things considered, made Dean a little uneasy, not used to the feeling

 _“So, hum… I’ve been meaning to talk to you,”_ Sam starts, hesitantly looking at his brother who’s currently drowning himself into his first cup of coffee.

Dean raises an eyebrow at him, lowering his cup, _“about what?”_

_“You know how I’ve told you I’ve warded your room for sound?”_

_“Yeah,”_ Dean answers, a suggestive look on his face, _“I never did thank you for that though, did I?”_

 _“Yeah, well, hold it,”_ Sam says, quickly interrupting him, _“You guys need to tune it down because even the warding — which Rowena herself gave me — isn’t powerful enough to stop me from hearing you two going at it.”_

Sam rolls his eyes in an exasperated gesture while Dean takes another sip of his coffee, watching as his brother seems to be struggling to find his own words.

_“And my room is literally all the way opposite from yours, so I can’t imagine what Jack hears every time he stays with us.”_

_“And it’s bad why, exactly?”_ Dean snorts, looking at his little brother with a smug smile on his lips, _“Newsflash, Sammy, Cas and I are a couple and we like to have steamy make-out sessions and occasionally bang each other in the bed we share, sometimes even occasionally in various other places in the bunker. What a fucking surprise.”_

 _“Well for once, I’m not particularly interested in cataloging every single one of my brother’s and my best friend’s moans while they go at each other, thank you very much,”_ Sam answers, a furious look on his face, _“and then, what do you mean, “various other places in the bunker?” Dean, we fucking share the space!”_

 _“As if you’ve never seen the appeal of having a good old quickie over the map table, uh?”_ Dean is quick to respond, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner, _“I’m just saying, don’t knock it until you try it!”_

 _“Fucking hell, Dean,”_ Sam says in clear disgust, _“we eat on that table!”_

 _“So? Hey, you know what? We’ll tone it down when you and Eileen will tone it the fuck down, little brother,”_ Dean playfully throw, watching as disgust turns into discomfort over Sam’s cheek.

 _“Why didn’t you say anything if we’re being too loud?”_ Sam asks after pulling himself together.

 _“Because I don’t give a shit, that’s why. Just don’t come at us for being too loud, and I won’t make you uncomfortable in front of Eileen,”_ Dean explains, rising up and putting his empty coffee mug in the sink, _“deal?”_

_“Yeah, whatever.”_

_“You’re going to move out pretty soon anyway, uh?”_

Sam’s cocks an eyebrow at him, looking more surprised than ever, while Dean grabs Castiel’s favorite cup (the one Jack brought back for him the last time he came back, that says _“Chaos coordinator fueled by caffeine”_ , which made Dean die of laughter because yeah, fucking spot on) and fills it with coffee.

 _“How do you know that?”_ he asks, speechless, _“I haven’t even told Eileen yet.”_

_“Cas saw you house hunting on your laptop the other day. I didn’t want to pressure you into talking about it, but, um… You did plan on letting me know, somewhere along the line, right?”_

_“Of course I did, I just… It still a long shot at best, and like I said I didn’t discuss it with Eileen yet, I just… I know the bunker is home to you, but if Eileen and I are planning on having a future, I don’t want to raise my kids here.”_

Dean smiles softly at the mention of Sam and Eileen having kids because there’s nothing he wants more for his brother to finally have a family — plus, bonus point for him and Cas becoming uncles and teaching the little rascals every possible mischief they can manage to think of.

Goddamit, little Winchesters. Yeah, 10-years-ago-Dean-o would freak the fuck out.

 _“Maybe you and Cas should do the same,”_ Sam interrupts Dean’s daydreams, _“settling down, finding a house… Like I said, I know you love this place, but maybe… Maybe Cas deserves more than an underground bunker and dead guys’ robes, you know.”_

 _“Don’t talk shit about my robes,”_ Dean smiles.

_“I’m just saying… Nothing is coming. We have a solid network handling the simplest salt and burns we’ve seen in decades. We finally get to have an actual, maybe lifelong break. Maybe it’s time. You both deserve this.”_

_“Yeah, alright,”_ Dean answers while he makes his way to the hallway, the atmosphere quickly shifting into something a little bit too heavy for an early Sunday morning, _“I promise we’ll try to be decent when it comes to sounds. In the meantime, you better send me those real-estate listing, I wanna see what houses you have your eyes on,”_ he says throwing a finger at his brother.

Dean quickly makes his way back to the bedroom, quietly slipping in and sitting on the edge of the bed, watching as Castiel, former angel of the bloody Lord slowly wakes up.

 _“Morning, Sunshine,”_ Dean says softly as one blue eyes flickers to glare at him, _“brought you some fresh coffee.”_

 _“You’re a saint,”_ Cas answers, voice muffled by the pillow.

 _“You of all people should know that’s not true,”_ Dean says playfully, setting up the coffee mug on the bedside table and extending a hand to ruffle Cas’ hair tenderly.

_“You’re_ **_my_ ** _saint.”_

_“Mhm, okay. That I can deal with.”_

Cas reaches out for him then, getting him back inside their bed in an instant, and Dean finds himself confronted with a very agitated and sleepy once-upon-an-angel, 150 pounds of Cas pressed up against his body in a tight embrace that fills him up with warmth. Castiel’s head finds its place under Dean’s chin, his glorious perpetually messy dark hair tickling at his jaw while Dean ghosts his lips over Cas’ hairline, both his arms around the angel’s waist, tugging him impossibly closer. He can feel the shudder in Castiel’s breathing, the way his hands clutch at his side like he’s afraid Dean might disappear if he doesn’t anchor himself to reality.

 _“You okay?”_ he asks after a moment, once Castiel’s breathing has returned to his steady pace.

_“I woke up and you weren’t there with me.”_

Dean steadies his grip on him then, his palms resting against Castiel’s shoulder blades, and lowering his head to catch his gaze. His eyes are closed now, and Dean can’t resist but dropping a kiss on his forehead, and the bridge of his nose, and his cheek, before he finally presses one on Cas’ chapped and appealing lips. Dean smiles at Castiel’s little huff of pleasure as he finally opens his eyes, and wild blue meet steady green.

 _“I’m sorry. I just wanted to catch Sam before he went off God knows where,”_ Dean explains, letting one of his hands trails down Castiel’s spine under his shirt, _“Am not going anywhere. Sam had stuff to say, though.”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Yes. Apparently, we’re being too noisy.”_

_“Are we now?”_ Cas answers and Dean can already see his smug little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, _“What did you say?”_

_“I said we’d tone it down when he and Eileen would do the same.”_

_“But we’ve never heard them —“_

_“Well, he doesn’t know that,”_ Dean cuts him off, watching as Castiel’s whole face lightens up with a wide smile.

_“You’re an idiot.”_

_“That’s a given at this point, angel,”_ Dean laughs.

They share a kiss then, entirely wrapped in each other in the silence of their room, hands roaming on each other’s skin. Dean can recognize the urgency in every single one of Castiel’s moves, in the way his lips move against him, even in the way Cas’ fingertips grasp at his skin. Sometimes he wishes he could kiss it away, make anything for Cas to understand he’s not going anywhere.

But habits die hard, and they’ve already come this far with so many of their trauma. Dean knows it’s still a long way until both of them feel comfortable enough to know waking up in an empty bed doesn’t mean you’ve been abandoned.

When Dean finally breaks away, it’s with a simple question making its way over his lips:

_“What do you think about moving out to, I don’t know, Vermont or something? Settling down, finding a house.”_

Dean doesn’t think he’s ever seen that look on Castiel’s face before. The sheer excitement mixed with wonder, something twinkling furiously in those baby blues.

Yeah, 10-years-ago-Dean-freaking-Winchester would’ve drowned the simple thoughts in a mountain of shots.

But present-Dean-Winchester think it’s quite okay, actually.

As long as he gets to walk barefoot to his kitchen, and wake up next to Cas? Yes, sign him up.

_They’ve got time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**rebloggable on[Tumblr](https://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/post/627430841022349312/if-love-is-enough-could-you-let-it-show)** _


	8. Reaching out for your hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt — Hope
> 
> Titled after lyrics from "On My Own" by Ashes Remain [[x](https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwiGs9Lt8rnrAhUTBGMBHVkPCOMQ3ywwAHoECBUQBg&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D4l7fhxNrrrM&usg=AOvVaw2h3matsLBQu4TJG5f9N8XC)]
> 
> _  
> **You want me to write something specific?[Send me a quick prompt, and I'll do my best!](http://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/ask)**  
>  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer — there's a quote from Jamie Tworkowski's in there. Kudos to you if you find it (and go read his book, it's one of my favorite).

For what it’s worth, Castiel tries.

He'll get up at 9 am every morning despite Dean’s pleas for him to stay in bed, will try to keep busy all day long by either helping Sam to do research, or discussing whatever Jack’s new obsession is at the moment (the boy is wild, and the internet just seem to have oh so many holes he could disappear into for a whole day), or more often than not spending time with Dean doing whatever Dean is doing at the moment (if it involves mechanics, the former angel will usually happily watch as he gets grease on his forehead and grumbles incoherent stuff from where he’s sprawled out under the Impala).

When they’re all in the bunker, they’ll have dinner together and movie nights at least twice a week, and those are always Castiel’s favorite moments, where he can witness the love between them all. From the way Dean will ruffle Jack’s hair or the playful banter between both brothers, and sometimes Dean will reach for his hand when the movie starts and lace their fingers together, a soft smile on his face as he concentrates to watch whatever they chose to watch.

It’s when he’ll return to their room and lay inside the bed he now shares with Dean that he’ll allow himself to sink. There, as he listens to Dean's heart beating steadily against where he’s resting on his chest, he’ll think about all the mistakes he’s made and all the pain he’s caused. Most of the time he’ll end up spiraling, his breath catching in his throat as panic rises from that spot in the pit of his stomach.

It’s then than Dean will wake up and lull him back to sleep, both of his arms steady around him, bringing him closer as he whispers, sweet against Cas’ ear.

_“It’s fine, sweetheart. I’m here. You’re okay. I’m not letting go.”_

Cas will grasp at Dean’s shirt, a desperate attempt at trying to anchor himself to reality. Dean will brush a kiss on his forehead then, whispering into the darkness of their room.

_“I love you. No matter what happens, no matter what you go through, I love you, and I’ll love you always. I’m not going anywhere.”_

It’s then that Hope rises in Castiel’s veins. It’s then that he remembers stars are always there but we miss them in the dirt and clouds, we miss them in the storms.

He’ll press a kiss against Dean’s skin, where it’s warm and smells likes home and everything Cas has ever wanted.

 _“I love you, too,”_ he whispers.

For what it’s worth, Castiel tries.

And it gets a little bit better every day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**rebloggable on[Tumblr](https://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/post/627552213525463040/hi-congrats-on-reaching-900-followers-one-word)** _


	9. It's warmer where you are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: soft.
> 
> Titled after lyrics from "You and I" by PVRIS [[x](https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwj3tqukr8PrAhWHkhQKHfDTAqYQ3ywwAHoECAoQAg&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DD0NqJgcbHe8&usg=AOvVaw2xKWky7h8SuGT60jx_BiRl)]
> 
> _**You want me to write something specific?[Send me a quick prompt, and I'll do my best!](http://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/ask)** _

Dean awakes to ice-cold skin being pressed up against his, hair tickling against his jaw as Castiel buries his face in the crook of his neck. Both of his arms find their way around him on instinct, bringing him closer, enjoying the weight of the former angel against him. He only seems to be wearing boxer briefs as he usually does now, but for some reason, his skin feels like he just went through two ice baths.

 _“Cas?”_ Dean groans, voice still heavy with sleep, _“Cas, why the fuck are you so cold now?”_

_“I was outside. God, you’re so warm.”_

Dean’s brain catches up quickly — the sun isn’t shining through the blindfolds yet, they went to bed around 1 am and he’s still massively tired, which can only mean…

_“What time is it?”_

_“I don’t know. Around 5 am I think.”_

_“Babe, what the fuck?”_ Dean groans against Cas’ temple, tightening his grip around him as Cas nuzzles against his jaw, _“Where have you been?”_

_“In the garden.”_

_“In the middle of the night?”_

_“I wanted to see the sun rises,”_ Cas explains, _“but it was too early, so I just… wandered.”_

Dean sighs against him, bringing the covers higher around them, brushing a kiss against Cas’ hairline. The former angel inhales loudly, breathing in Dean’s scent from where his face his wedged against the skin of Dean’s throat. The hunter lets one of his hands wander through the messy dark hair he loves so much, carding through lightly as his other hand runs against his spine.

_“But then I missed you.”_

_“How long have you been gone?”_ Dean asks, amused.

_“An hour or so.”_

_“And you missed me?”_

Dean is full-on smiling now, ducking his head to catch sight of his lover’s face. His eyes are closed and a shadow of a smile seems to be tugging at the corner of his mouth.

 _“Yeah,”_ he answers, opening his eyes to stare at him, _“I always miss you.”_

There’s something fizzling inside those baby blues, and Dean leans in to brush a soft kiss against Castiel’s lips then, delighting in the little shiver that courses alongside Cas’ spine, knowing full well it’s not coming from cold.

 _“You’re such a sap,”_ he whispers against his lips, eyes closed.

 _“Shut up,”_ Cas interrupts him by chasing his mouth again, sharing a long kiss before gasping for air again, _“you love it.”_

_“Damn right I do.”_

They share lazy kisses after lazy kisses, slowly drifting away as they lose themselves in each other, Castiel’s skin finally warming up after some time. Dean can’t seem to ever get enough, clutching at Cas’ side, touching and kissing like he’s not sure he’ll ever get another chance. Sometimes he thinks that’s because they’ve waited so long to have this that now he can never be satisfied.

Cas holds on to him like a castaway to a life raft, breathing in his scent every time he gets the chance, dropping kisses alongside his jaw before he finally decides to rest his head on Dean’s chest, listening to his heart beating under his ear.

 _“The sun rises around 6:45 am, sweetheart,”_ Dean explains after a while, _“4 am was just a bit too early.”_

 _“I’ll keep that in mind for the next time,”_ Cas says, dropping a kiss against Dean’s collarbone, letting his lips trail up until they find Dean’s sweet spot in the crook of his neck.

_“We can still go now, if you feel like it.”_

_“Really?”_

He sounds so hopeful it gets Dean to smile, slowly tilting his head to give Cas better access, allowing him to move his mouth along the skin of his neck. He can’t help a low groan from coming out from the back of his throat once Cas’s lips find his pulse point. He pushes on the angel’s shoulders then, pressing him back face-first against the mattress, and holding him there with a firm hand pressed between his shoulder blades.

 _“We still have time before, though,”_ Dean says, bending over to drop a soft kiss at the nape of Cas’ neck, letting his lips trail down until they meet his shoulder, _“if you feel like it, or are you still cold?”_

Cas laugh, voice a bit muffled but the pillow, until he rolls his hips under Dean, drawing a filthy grin from the hunter.

 _“You wanna try that again?”_ he asks, his mouth finding his way under Cas’ ear.

_“Gladly.”_

They don’t make it in time to watch the sun rises that morning, but Dean thinks that’s okay.

The sun rises every morning, and they’re not in a hurry anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**rebloggable on[Tumblr](https://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/post/627893517358874624/its-warmer-where-you-are)** _


	10. Shooting star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt — Destiel + nightmare
> 
> _  
> **You want me to write something specific?[Send me a quick prompt, and I'll do my best!](http://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/ask)**  
>  _

Dean is used to nightmares, to the distinct taste of metal at the back of his throat when he awakes after screaming into the limbo, to the violent shudders that break his body apart and never cease until he soothes the panic and agony with either cold water or alcohol (sometimes both, and it’s never enough).

He’s not used to being woken up by the violence of Cas’ cries, not used to seeing the former angel’s body squirming like eels, not used to witnessing the tears streaming down his face, staining his cheeks as he fights his way out from sleep, not used to the shivers that don’t stop once he’s wide awake, not used to being pushed away as Castiel tries to calm himself down.

It takes Cas a while before he accepts Dean’s embrace and finally let go as the hunter holds him close and tight against him, whispering sweet, soothing words as an attempt to calm him down, one hand threading through the thick lock of dark hair.

“I’m here. You’re okay. You’re not alone, I’m right here, I’ve got you. Breathe.”

He’s used to blood covering his hands, to digging graves and burning corpses, to witches and ghosts and vampires and werewolves and ghouls, to awful diner food reheated at 4 in the morning.

That he can deal with.

He doesn’t know how to deal with a former angel of the lord trying to get to grips with humanity being woken up from an excruciating nightmare.

“Don’t leave me.”

Cas’ voice is hoarse, pleading, and it breaks Dean apart in thousands of little pieces. He clutches him closer, trying so hard to convey the words that won’t come out from his mouth through his touches.

“I’m not going to leave, ever. I’m right here. Breathe. You’ve got me.”

“I love you.”

It’s murmured, breathed into his neck. It’s as light as a feather and somehow it sounds like Castiel just screamed each of these three little words into the silence of their room. Dean can almost feel the weight hanging over each letter.

He stops breathing for a few seconds.

Then he ducks his head to look at Castiel’s face, and although he’s still pretty shaken up from whatever he dreamed about, his eyes are steady, unwavering.

It feels like the weight of the world finally drops from Dean’s shoulder, for a few blessed seconds.

Blue meets Green, Moon meets Stars, Earth meets Heaven.

Dean is used to words left untold, to white-lies and half-truths, to shoving his feelings down and swallowing his pride.

He’s not used to gentle words, to soothing hands being pressed against his skin, to loving touches roaming his skin, to lips pressing against his.

“I love you too, angel.”

Castiel’s smile is like a shooting star through the darkness.

Dean thinks he could get used to that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**rebloggable on[Tumblr](https://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/post/630448206519697408/prompt-by-anon-destiel-nightmare-wc-478-read)** _


	11. The dwarfs in the nicknames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt — Dean calling Cas his friend even when they’re dating and Cas being confused

In a surprising turn of events that may or may not have been prompted by Sam telling them with a cheeky smile that he’s off to see Eileen, Dean and Cas end up having the bunker for themselves for the first time in weeks.

So when Dean wanders into the room he and Cas have been sharing since… Well, since whenever they finally got their shit together, he’s actually surprised to find Cas lying in bed wearing Dean’s sweats and one of his old ratty tee-shirts, so concentrated on the book he’s reading that his brows are furrowed.

It’s infuriating how good he looks. If Dean’s being honest, Castiel always looked like a goddamn model to him even with his ratty trenchcoat and bulky suit on, but ever since he’s started wearing clothes that actually fit him? Clothes that are almost exclusively Dean’s?

Count Dean in as perpetually blown away by his very own boyfriend’s appearance. 

(Which in turn gives Sam a reason to run away every once in a while, to Dean’s greatest pleasure.)

“Really? We’ve got the house to ourselves and this is what you choose to do with our free time?” Dean chuckles as he drops on their bed.

Cas doesn’t make a single movement but Dean immediately goes for his warmth as he plasters himself against his side, finding “his” spot in the v-shape of his neck and breathing in. He drops a soft kiss where Castiel’s shoulder meets his neck, smiling when Cas lets out a silent little huff.

“Hey, sexy,” Cas finally says, eyes still on his book but one of his hand carding through the mess of Dean’s hair.

Dean lets out a hilarious huff, because everything about Cas using that phrase is hilarious at best, but Cas actually using this without even batting an eye is peak comedy.

“Hey, grumpy.”

That, at least, has the merit of pulling Cas off his book. He looks down at his boyfriend with the world’s most puzzled gaze Dean has seen in the past three decades, and it does nothing to stop another laugh from getting past the hunter’s lips.

“Why am I “grumpy” in this analogy?” Cas asks, sounding so dramatic that it sends Dean through another wave of laughter. “I’m actually in a very good mood.”

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you show how good of a mood you’re in, my friend?” Dean asks wiggling his eyebrows, already closing his eyes waiting for the kiss to come.

Which doesn’t come, and when Dean opens his eyes again he’s met with another one of Cas’ bewildered look. He pushes himself up on his elbow then, catching Cas’ gaze and losing himself in the baby blues he loves so much for a little while.

“What’s up with you?” he asks, this time with mild concern because Cas is acting _strange_ now. “I’m just messing with you.”

“I just —,” Cas starts before he stops and looks away, and Dean can’t help but feel a surge of anxiety immediately rising up from his guts.

It’s still new, this thing between them, despite having been there for more than a decade. It’s still new because they’ve only allowed themselves to have it for a few months, and every day Dean has to pinch himself to assure that it’s real. 

It’s not always easy. 

It’s love and laughs, but it’s also fights and dirty laundry and bed unmade and pizza being shared at 3 am because your former angel of a boyfriend woke up wanting that half-eaten pepperoni special that you didn’t manage to finish earlier in front of yet another cowboy movie.

Dean has never felt this full. But it’s also anxiously waiting for your boyfriend to explain what’s wrong after you’ve made a stupid joke, and Dean kind of hates it right now.

He lets one of his hands wander under Cas’ shirt, fingertips tracing patterns on the skin of his chest.

“You can tell me, Cas.” 

“You keep doing that,” Castiel finally says, meeting his eyes again, “Calling me your “friend”, but we have… sexual intercourse every day, sometimes several times a day, I don’t see how that still qualifies me as a “friend”. Do you have sex with all your friends?”

This time Dean can’t resist and literally burst out laughing. When he manages to get his composure back, Cas is still looking at him expectantly waiting for an explanation.

Dean kisses him instead.

It still feels a little bit unreal, being able to lie in bed doing nothing but share shallow kisses with a former angel of the lord. It also feels like riding an actual rainbow, and when Castiel’s arms finally wrap around him and pull him on top of him, Dean smiles wider into the kiss. 

They’re allowed that, now. They’re allowed love and sex and all the in-betweens, and Dean _loves_ the in-betweens.

“I only have sex with one of my friend, Cas,” Dean whispers against his boyfriend’s lips. “And it’s you, dumbass.”

“But I thought I was more than a friend?”

Dean sighs, trading another shallow and tender kiss before answering. “Well, here’s the thing, babe. If you aren’t friends with the person you’re in love with, there’s a potential issue here.”

Cas’ brows furrow again, and Dean smiles. 

Good lord, he loves him so much that sometimes there’s an ache in his chest when he realizes.

“You’re my best friend. Which means I’m the luckiest guy alive because you’re also my boyfriend.”

Dean fits his lip on Castiel’s again, kissing him gently. Cas huffs into the kiss, still holding on to Dean but apparently still not convinced.

“I still don’t get it, Dean.”

“One doesn’t cancel the other. Actually, it strengthens it. 

“But —,”

“Sweetheart, you’re my boyfriend and my best friend and my _friend_. You’re all of it. And I feel blessed for it.”

Cas finally smiles and there’s something twinkling in the warmth of his eyes as he finally leans in and kisses Dean, all tongue and teeth this time.

When they part, Dean is panting and there’s a cheeky smile spreading on Castiel’s lips.

“What was that for?” Dean asks.

Cas smiles as he drops back on his pillow, his hand behind his head. “Being your lover, your best friend, and your friend.”

“I’ll take that,” Dean smiles into another kiss.

For a little while that’s all there is, kisses and cuddles and sweet words whispered into each other’s mouth.

Until Cas, who apparently cannot let go of anything, chimes in again.

“Do I still need to be Grumpy in your analogy?”

Dean laughs against his lips, dragging his lips over the light stubble on the line of his jaw. 

“Would you like it better if I called you Dopey?”

And if there’s anything the past decade taught Dean, it’s that being pressed into the mattress by a very sexy Cas not even 2 minutes after that usually means he did his job well enough.

So maybe switching from Grumpy to Dopey was the trick all along.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _  
> **rebloggable on[Tumblr](https://chaoticdean.tumblr.com/post/637917202726682624/for-the-prompt-dean-calling-cas-his-friend-even)**  
>  _


End file.
